


For Now

by BlackVelvet42



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 16:43:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18898606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackVelvet42/pseuds/BlackVelvet42
Summary: "Despite what she liked to believe, she wasn’t nearly as skilled in hiding her true self as she thought."





	For Now

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Caladenia, my beta, my goddess. I bow at your feet and offer thee my eternal soul.

* * *

  

He’d been keeping an eye on her all evening. Watching her when she entered the decorated mess hall, then mingled with the crowd with a warm smile and kind words for everyone she spoke with, her presence giving the Delaney twins’ extravagant birthday more dignity than it probably deserved.

All captain, all leader. Yet in the brief moments when no one addressed her, when she stood alone glancing over the room and taking sips from her glass, her silence told another story.

Two years into their journey, he’d learned to read her signals, those visible on her expressive face, and those more subtle, only hinted somewhere between silence and breath. Despite what she liked to believe, she wasn’t nearly as skilled in hiding her true self as she thought.

Maybe others read her too. Maybe that was the reason people seemed to approach her more readily than usual, hoping to offer her something they saw she needed. But even though her fingers often brushed an arm or a shoulder in reassurance or encouragement, that gesture was never reciprocated. The invisible boundaries between captain and crew held everyone back as firmly as if that barrier was real.

During evenings like this, gathered together for various celebrations, the sense of family was palpable. It bubbled in the carefree laughter and gentle banter, in smiles and touches strengthening old bonds and forming new ones. From the turmoil of their first days, of two very different crews forced to work together through unexpected circumstances, they had come a long way, the community forged stronger with each hardship they encountered.

She was a part of that family—and then again not.

Her role would always demand her to keep a certain distance, both an emotional and a physical one. It wasn’t only her duty, but her choice as well, a means to ensure she could act when others could not, ready to make the decisions required to secure their survival. Those reasons were recognized by all, her sacrifice acknowledged and respected though never mentioned. He understood them too, even as he often questioned her need for such a strict interpretation of her position.

The more relaxed the togetherness grew in these gatherings, the wider that distance became.

At some point during the evening, he always found her observing the crew from aside, watching their joy with tenderness in her eyes and contentment on her lips. As if her peace was born from the knowledge that at least right then everyone under her command was safe and happy.

The moment she made her decision to leave was easy to recognize. She would sigh and lower her gaze in what appeared like a shade of regret, a longing suppressed as soon as it emerged. Then she would lift her chin, set her glass down, and make her way to the exit, unnoticed.

Usually, he let her take that silent leave and filled the place she left behind, one of stability and security proffered with mere presence.

This time, however, he excused himself from the company and hurried to catch her leaving the room.

From the beginning, she’d made perfectly clear what she expected of him. To do his best serving as her first officer, to help her get Voyager home. What she’d left unsaid, though, but what her eyes searching his and her fingers lingering on his chest revealed day after day, was much more complicated.

That underneath the uniform, she needed closeness and connection just like everyone else. To be seen and heard, accepted as she was, touched and cared for by someone she could trust without the fear of losing herself or her focus.

Maybe she would never voice those needs. Her stubbornness to uphold impossible ideals and her willingness to sacrifice herself for the well-being of others was beyond measure. He could easily see her isolating herself if she believed it could benefit her crew, the walls surrounding her growing thicker by the year.

But if she ever did open her heart, if she ever did take that chance and show her vulnerability, he would seize that precious moment and tell her that he longed for the very same things. That their journey was too long and too trying to survive without a bond to another. That with their combined efforts, they could make it work.

He matched his steps to hers and once the doors had closed behind them, he took her hand into his.

Even before he looked at her, he knew her eyes had darted to him, wide and curious and a bit disapproving for so boldly crossing the unwritten barrier. He couldn’t help grinning at her expression. The opportunities to surprise her, maybe even shock her a little, were rare. Nevertheless, he accepted her silent protest and released her hand, only to find that her fingers continued holding his by the lightest of contact, surprising him in return.

The gesture was so small, barely noticeable. And still, its power was immense.

The feel of her soft skin flooded him with warmth, the understanding that she wanted this too quickening his heart. And as her fingers twined firmly with his, above all else rose a lightness like anything in the universe was possible.

A smile playing on both their lips, they walked towards the lift without saying a word. By the time they turned around the corner, her hand had slid away.

Yet they didn’t seem to know how to stay apart. Their bodies drifted closer to each other like they often did, seeking the intimacy that already sustained them, gifting them the energy and faith to live another day.

Standing in the lift, shoulder to shoulder, her proximity felt as comfortable and natural as breathing.

Maybe someday there would be more, but for now, this was enough.

 

* * *

 


End file.
